


Spiders and Stone

by orphan_account



Series: 30 Day AU Challenge [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, F/F, Gen, Medieval AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Queen Melinda is as strong as stone, and she knows that walls of stone are the only thing that will truly protect her people. Sometimes stone cracks, however, and cracks are good hiding places for spiders...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been ten years since Melinda had become Queen, and even her royal advisor could attest that she had not smiled once since that day. Most of the people agreed she was a good queen, and their kingdom had been peaceful in the ten years of her reign. A good queen, the people would say, but not a warm queen. Melinda was stone and ice, and she protected the kingdom with strength and quiet, a welcome change after the fiery, bloody years before her reign.

Embers of that past fire still burned, somewhere in the darkness, but Melinda did her best to keep them from catching fire. She had made enemies when she had become queen, because she had taken the throne by force. It had been necessary at the time to prevent further bloodshed, and when it had happened, Melinda had been fully prepared to bring all the repercussions on herself, to save the lives of everyone else.

She just hadn’t expected to become queen.

The people had wanted her to become queen, despite the violence of what she had done to get there, and she hadn’t had a choice. So she viewed this as a sacrifice as well, and bore it without complaint. From this position she could protect people, and she told herself that this was what she had wanted anyway. The kingdom was safe, no longer under tyranny, and that was what mattered.

There came a time, however, when the embers slowly grew, turning into small flames, and Melinda became aware of how many people hated her for what she had done. They had been small in number when she had first become queen, but their numbers had grown, enough that her advisor Philip began to worry. He told her to be cautious, and he took great measures to secure her safety, but she hadn’t listened, and had continued to rule as if there was no threat. It was almost like a dare, challenging someone to come close enough to attack her. After all, what damage could truly be done to stone?

So when Melinda woke up in the middle of the night with a pair of hands around her throat, her first thought before she became aware enough to panic was “I suppose this is my fault, isn’t it?”

She didn’t linger on the thought for long, however, a bit preoccupied with trying not to choke. She tugged at her assailant’s hands, trying to get up and fight, and her mind flashed back to the last time she had fought like this. Everything became a blur, and her instincts kicked in, calling upon muscle memory she hadn’t used since killing a tyrant king and calling it a necessary sacrifice. All her mind could think was that this situation was wrong, that it should be _her_ hands around her assailant’s neck, just like they had been ten years ago, and not the other way around. Soon, thoughts devolved into pure physicality, and Melinda didn’t stop fighting until the situation had been rectified, until she had pinned the would-be assassin, her hands around a neck that was much thinner than the king’s had been.

It was when she realized the difference that she came back to herself and realized what was going on. Cold rage still coursed through her, and she kept the assassin pinned, trying to keep her mind from slipping back into a flashback again. From what she could see in the dark, the assassin was a woman, and Melinda caught a glint of red hair in the moonlight. She held her still enough to make her fear for her life, but not enough to kill her.

“Who are you?” Melinda’s voice was a hiss in the darkness. There was a small part of her that relished this rage, even though it burned at her. It was better than feeling nothing at all. “I am the stone queen, you cannot kill me.”

“You are not stone.” The woman’s voice was choked, and she gasped for air, the sound ragged. Melinda released her neck from her hands, but caught her in a headlock, not letting her go.

“What is your name?” Melinda kept her voice quiet, not wanting to wake Philip. She was determined to take care of this herself. The woman didn’t answer, and Melinda looked at her, trying to look for anything she recognized. If she was a citizen of the kingdom, Melinda had never seen her before, but she noticed something odd - a small red hourglass marking on her otherwise black clothes.

“I have no name.” The woman wrenched out of Melinda’s headlock, and lunged to attack her again, this time with a knife at her throat. Melinda hissed as the knife slit her throat, but the wound was shallow, and she ducked out of the way of another strike, trying to maneuver to a good angle to attack the woman. There was something cold and emotionless in the woman’s eyes, something that reminded Melinda of herself. Whatever reason this woman had for trying to kill her, it wasn’t hatred.

_Because it’s necessary._

That was what Melinda had said, when the king, at his last breath, had asked her why she had killed him. And Melinda was fairly sure that if Melinda asked the same question of this woman, she would receive the same answer.

Melinda managed to grab the woman, and this time, she slammed her against the wall, making sure that her head hit the hard stone. The impact knocked the assassin out, and she slumped in Melinda’s arms. Melinda waited, in case she was faking, but the woman was out cold, the back of her head bleeding.

It had caused such a noise that a few moments later, Philip came rushing into Melinda’s room, groggy and alarmed.

“Melinda - what’s happened?” The light from Philip’s candle cast a soft orange glow onto the scene - Melinda standing over the assassin, her expression as stony as ever.

“This woman snuck into my room and tried to kill me. I want her locked up.” Before Phil could act, Melinda reached down and hefted the woman over her shoulder, directing Phil to follow her down to the dungeons.

“She isn’t dead?” There was something in Philip’s voice that made him sound as if he had expected Melinda to kill her outright.

“No. And I don’t want a word of this leaked to the public. If there are people working against me, news of an assassination attempt will only add fuel to their fire. This is my responsibility, and I am going to handle it on my own.” Melinda deposited the woman in an empty cell, the only prisoner in the entire dungeon. The dungeon had technically been the old king’s, and in all her years of ruling, Melinda had never used it. She wondered briefly if something like this had been how the king had begun the transformation into something Melinda had had to kill. Things like that started small, and they festered.

“As you wish.” Philip’s lips were tight, and Melinda felt a twinge of guilt, knowing this had upset her old friend. Melinda had been cold for very long, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about the one person who had stuck with her through everything.

“I’ll take measures to keep myself safer, Philip. I’m sorry. I should have listened to you,” Melinda allowed, knowing there wasn’t much else she could do to placate him. Philip put a hand on her shoulder, and they stood there for a while, watching the woman in her cell. After a while, Melinda spoke again.

“Philip, you should go back to bed. I’m going to stay down here.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?”

“She’s behind bars. But this is my responsibility, and I’m going to handle it.” Melinda wanted to talk to the woman alone, to figure out why this had happened and who she was working for. The dungeon was no place for Philip, and she wanted him to return to the upper parts of the castle, so he would stay out of this. Melinda knew, however, that if there was anyone in the kingdom who belonged here, it was probably her. So it didn’t bother to stay.

“If you’re sure.” Philip squinted at the bars of the woman’s cell, as if his scrutiny could make Melinda safer. After a few moments of considering, he nodded, gave Melinda’s shoulder a squeeze, and then let her go, heading back upstairs.

Melinda sat down in front of the bars of the cage, watching and waiting for the woman to stir. As she watched her, she realized where she recognized the hourglass symbol from. There were spiders who lurked in the forests, dangerous spiders. Some would say they hurt people only out of self-defense, only when they were threatened, but Melinda knew that there was more to them than that. There was no self-defense in eating one’s own mate, just cold and violence and rage. Melinda knew those feelings well, and if this woman was anything like the spiders whose marking she bore, she likely did too.

_Since you will not tell me your name, I will give you one. I will call you Black Widow._


	2. Chapter 2

When the Black Widow awoke, the first thing Melinda saw on her face was confusion, and then panic. When her eyes landed on Melinda, panic changed to recognition, and then anger. Melinda kept her own face even, continuing to watch the woman, as she had for many hours now. She hadn’t slept, and even when Philip had brought her breakfast, she had still refused to come back upstairs.

“I saved some food for you,” Melinda said, and slid her breakfast plate under the barred door, which held half of the food Philip had brought her earlier. The Black Widow stared at it, but didn’t make any move to approach it.

“Poisoned, I’m sure. I’m not stupid,” the Black Widow said, but there was something slightly puzzled in her tone.

“Fine, I’ll prove it to you.” Melinda approached the cage, and then slipped her hand inside briefly, taking a slice of fruit and popping it into her mouth. “This was my breakfast this morning, and now it’s yours. I may be a cold queen, but I am not inhumane.”

“I tried to kill you.” The Black Widow gave Melinda a questioning look, but a moment later, she began to eat her food, and as Melinda watched, there was a hint of desperation in her motions. She wondered when the woman had last had the chance to eat.

“You failed, and now you’re my prisoner. So I’ll do what I like with you. And if that means feeding you breakfast food, you’re going to have to deal with it. I don’t let prisoners starve down here.” Melinda looked at the woman more closely, and she wondered where she had come from. The Black Widow’s face was gaunt, her red hair matted and tied back in a sloppy braid. Wherever she had come from, it looked like she had been outside for a while.

“Prisoners? It doesn’t look like you have any, besides me. If there were prisoners, I would hear them talking, and see them in the cells across from mine.” The Black Widow moved forward a little in her cell, looking around, and Melinda backed away, keeping at a safe distance. “I’d have thought a queen like you would have many prisoners.”

“What do you mean, a queen like me?” Melinda bristled a bit, and there was a hint of a smirk on the Black Widow’s face. That had struck a nerve, and they both knew it, but Melinda was determined to uphold her normal, calm persona.

“Someone who can kill a king with her bare hands seems quite a violent and angry person,” the Black Widow said, settling back against the wall of her cell.

“You tried to kill a queen with your bare hands. Would you have prisoners, if you had cages like these?”

That seemed to give the Black Widow pause, and something in her expression changed a bit. Her smirk faded, and she looked straight ahead, past Melinda, not meeting her gaze.

“No.” That was all she said, and though Melinda waited for her to speak, she didn’t say anything more until Melinda prompted her again.

“Why did you come to kill me, then?” It wasn’t the best subject change, but if the Black Widow was going to be unresponsive when cages were mentioned, Melinda knew she wouldn’t get anywhere. Despite herself, she felt a twinge of guilt for keeping her in a cage, especially after seeing that, but she knew she couldn’t trust the woman if she let her out. It was likely that this was a display of emotional manipulation, and the Black Widow wanted Melinda to feel sorry for her.

“There are people who want you dead. I am the woman for the job,” the woman said, and now her tone was as cold and flat as Melinda’s own voice. Melinda decided she didn’t like how much the Black Widow reminded her of herself. Something struck her as odd about the woman’s phrasing, though, and she pressed further.

“Are you one of those people who want me dead?” Melinda supposed she could be a mercenary. If the Black Widow truly hated Melinda, Melinda had a feeling she would have heard much more vitriol by now. “If you’re not, then who’s paying you? I’m not going to let you out until you tell me.”

“No one is paying me,” the Black Widow said, and Melinda frowned.

“Then you must want me dead, if no one is paying you.”

“I am the woman for the job.” There was something stilted in the Black Widow’s voice now as she repeated the phrase, and Melinda felt a sick when she realized what must be going on. The Black Widow wasn’t even a mercenary, she was brainwashed. There was no other explanation. And if that turned out to be true, more blood was on Melinda’s hands. This time, though, it was worse. This was the blood of an innocent.

It was a long while before Melinda spoke again, and she tried to hide how much that revelation had shaken her.

“I don’t want to keep you locked up here. I don’t like keeping prisoners. But I can’t trust you yet.” Melinda kept her voice even, knowing that the woman could take any hint of emotion and use it against her. “Until I can trust you, I am going to keep you here, but you won’t be treated terribly. You have my word as queen. I will come back for your lunch time.” She stood, getting an increasing feeling that she needed to get out of here before she let herself get emotionally compromised.

“‘You won’t be treated terribly,’ she says, to the woman she keeps in a cage.” The Black Widow’s tone wasn’t accusatory or angry, and she sounded as if she was just observing a fact, her voice flat and emotionless. Still, though, it got under Melinda’s skin, and she turned to go, trying not to think about the hollow expression on her prisoner’s face.

When she returned to the castle’s upper rooms, Philip was waiting for her just before her bedroom, and he frowned when he saw her expression.

“What did she do to you?” Philip asked, and Melinda felt a twinge of worry for making him worry again.

“I haven’t had a prisoner in a long time, that’s all. It’s unsettling.” Melinda couldn’t quite meet his eyes, and she sat down in one of the chairs, feeling a little unsteady.

“You’ve never had a prisoner, Melinda.” Philip’s tone was gentle, and he put his hand on Melinda’s shoulder again. Out of habit, her hand came up to hold his, and the touch comforted her a little. Philip was good at grounding her and bringing her back to reality, and she needed that more than ever right now.

“I - I think she’s been brainwashed, Philip. She doesn’t hate me, and she isn’t getting paid, either. Someone made her do this.” Melinda felt her voice shake a little, and she took a deep breath, gathering herself. Philip had seen her emotionally compromised before, but that didn’t make it a good thing, and she wanted it to happen as infrequently as possible. Philip frowned a little, and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Then we’ll find out who’s behind this, and who sent her. Your safety is at risk,” Philip said, but Melinda shook her head.

“I don’t care about that, Philip - “

“Well, I do.” Philip cut her off, giving her a meaningful look. “If you won’t look out for your own safety, I will. That’s my job. You’re my best friend, if I am to be frank, and I protect you.” Melinda felt that same little twinge of guilt, and it was a little while before she spoke again.

“You always do that, and I don’t say thank you nearly enough. So...thank you.” Melinda paused. “But I can’t be concerned with my own safety right now.”

“Why? I think you damn well should be.”

“If she’s truly been brainwashed, that’s on my head. It’s my responsibility, and I intend to help her if I can. If that means compromising my safety, so be it.” Melinda felt as if this was the only way she could even start to make things right, and nothing Philip said was going to sway her. She expected him to protest, but when she looked back up at him, his expression was soft instead of angry.

“You aren’t all cold and stone, Melinda.” Philip gave her hand a squeeze and let it go, getting up. Melinda started to protest, but he continued. “It’s my job to remember that, but I hope you believe it too, someday.”

As she watched him go, she found she couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Not even a protest.


End file.
